Saving Grace
by adoctoraday
Summary: *Spoilers for show* Set after season 3 finale, John Reese has been in Chicago, where a year ago he saved the life of Katrina Woodson with the team. Now that she's in trouble again, he is coming to her rescue again, this time by himself. Will they ultimately save each other? *Update-Story is being revised and updated*
1. Saving Grace Chapter 1

_The soft Georgia breeze blew over my skin, changing it, scattering freckles across my nose. I leaned back and kicked my legs, staring up at through the willow branches to the blue sky, listening to the breeze and the creak of the tire swing._

_The rubber was hot under my skin and the rope was rough in my hands as I swung, humming softly. Soon enough my grandma would be calling me in for dinner, but for now, I would swing._

_A shadow passed overhead, casting darkness over my little spot by the creek, and a shiver passed over my skin. I didn't like the darkness..._

_I kicked my legs harder and the tire swing floated higher in the sky. If I could just reach the light, I wouldn't be left in the darkness anymore._

_I kicked again and pushed off of the tire swing, leaping into the air, arms spread wide like I could fly. _

_Fly free…._

_I ended up with a cast on my left arm for eight weeks from that little stunt, and both my grandmother and aunt were extremely displeased. _

_My aunt threatened to stop letting me visit my grandmother, and my grandmother's face was lined with sadness and disappointment—two emotions that I had never been the recipient of from her. _

_"__You could have died!"_

_"__You can't act so recklessly!"_

_"__What would your parents think?"_

_What would my parents think? It was all meaningless to me…they were dead now, they didn't think anything. A violent drunk driving accident had taken them from me, leaving me sitting home alone in the dark, waiting for them for hours before the police had come and found me._

_The only think I cared about was making sure that the darkness didn't take me too. _

_For years that's all I did, push back against the darkness; within me, around me, eating at me. _

_Now I'm not so sure I did any good._

* * *

I never imagined I would die this way….tied to a chair in a dank warehouse in Chicago, being tortured to death. I always thought much like everyone else I imagine, that I would die at an old age, surrounded by loving family, not at 32, surrounded by Russian mobsters that were eager to see me in pain.

But I guess being an Assistant District Attorney prosecuting violent criminals had finally caught up to me. My name is Katrina Woodson, and I think I'm going to die soon.

I sort of hope so.

It would be nice to rest.

I suppose I should be more upset at the idea of dying, but god, I can't even summon the energy for anger at this shitty situation anymore. All I really want is for it to be over.

The men were from the Russian mob, and they had been torturing me for three days…I think. They kept asking about a man in a suit, why had he saved me last year, what I knew about his location, could I get in touch with him.

At first I hadn't realized what they were talking about and had plead my ignorance. That had earned me a slap across the face and a backhand when I protested.

After being shown a blurry photo of a tall, dark haired man in a suit, I remembered.

Last year I had been prosecuting another member of their crew, and had been receiving multiple death threats. After a shot had been taken at me on the street, this man had shown up in my life, shielding me from bullets, car bombs, and ultimately, taking a bullet meant for me.

I had tried to find out how he knew I was in danger, because he wasn't with the police or any of the alphabet soup spy organizations, but he had remained tight lipped. "Good information" he had insisted.

For information like his, I would do a lot. That kind of information would have solved all of my cases and let me deal with these idiots before they ever came after me.

Unfortunately he had disappeared after the threat was eliminated, and I hadn't heard from him since.

My life had gone back to its normal routine of cases, bad boyfriends, and disappointing sex.

Now it seemed that one of my cases had put me squarely in the Russians crosshairs again. Only this time, the man in the suit wasn't here to save me.

A ghost of a smile crossed my lips at the thought-_the man in the suit-_ after a few years of having their asses kicked by both him and Elias, the mere mention of him had been enough to send the Russians running from New York, and straight to Chicago, where they had set up shop.

When I met him, he had shrugged off that moniker and had told me to call him John. Quiet, intense, and deadly, he had come into my life when I needed him most, and then left.

I prayed now, as I sat tied to a chair, blood running down my face from multiple cuts, my chest laced with burns from cigarettes. I prayed that he would come and save me again.

I had tried to escape after a day here, but had only made it as far as one door before the men had caught up to me and had beaten me so badly I couldn't stand. They had begun withholding food and water soon after that.

I wanted to cry, but had no energy left for it. I hadn't eaten in two days. They had been sparing with the water, unless they were shoving my face into a bucket of ice water until I couldn't breathe.

I needed to rest, they would be back soon and I hadn't slept well last night…or whenever it was that I had slept last.

* * *

I had my eyes closed; trying to rest when I heard the door open to the small room they had me in. Two of my captors entered, speaking in Russian.

I had long ago stopped trying to understand them. Their expressions often told me all I needed to know about what was coming. Guessing from all the hand waving and the angry looks, it seems I'm in for a long night.

I wish I could tell them something about John, but I never learned anything about him. He was just there at the right time and place, according to him. Well, now would be a nice time for him to show up.

The men came over to me and proceeded with questioning me about John's physical appearance. "Why, are you boys going to ask him out? I don't think you're his type. Too butch." I laughed at their faces until a punch from one man nearly knocked my chair over.

My face exploded with pain. Looking up at them I spat out blood, "Hmm, well maybe since you both like it rough you should just fuck each other." The other man punched me in the gut, knocking out what little air I had.

I sat gasping for a few minutes until the man on the right spoke, "Have you had enough? Then tell us what you know about him."

I looked up at him through my rapidly swelling eye, and choked out a laugh, "I've already told you everything I know, which isn't much. You want to talk about how the Cubs are going to do this season?"

This earned me another slap to the face. I stared down at my feet, bare and freezing, and felt the pain starting to overwhelm me. I was going to black out soon and I thanked God.

I didn't want to feel this pain anymore. I could tell they were losing their patience, and soon they would move on to less pleasant forms of torture. Eventually they would decide I wasn't worth keeping alive and someone would decide to rape me before they killed me.

God I hoped I was unconscious when that happened.

I hadn't noticed the bucket of ice water they had with them until they tilted my chair back and stuck my feet into it. Hissing at the cold, I knew this was bad. My body would eventually go into shock at the cold, possibly hypothermia depending on how long they kept refreshing the ice, but first my feet would get frostbite.

_Shit this is going to suck._

I shuddered, waiting for the blows to start. When they didn't, I glanced up and saw that the men were just watching me. Closing my eyes, I waited, knowing there was nothing I could say or do to prevent whatever they had planned.

When I heard the door shut, I knew this was it. I would be left here to freeze and starve. I closed my eyes, exhaustion taking me. The world went dark.

* * *

_I was running…someone was chasing me….I looked back and saw a gun….BANG..BANG..BANG!_

My head snapped up into wakefulness as the sound of real gunshots penetrated my sleep. The sounds of fighting and gunshots were getting louder. Fear and anxiety pulsed through me, making me sick to my stomach.

"What the hell is going on?" I whispered to myself. Was a rival gang attacking the Russians? It sure sounded like someone was hitting them with heavy weaponry. Whoever it was, I hoped they killed all of them.

Suddenly, there was silence. The door to the hell I was caged in swung open, and there, in all his suited glory, was John.

A choked sobbed ripped from my throat and I thrashed against my bonds, desperate to be free. His expression hardened further when he saw me, and when a Russian darted into the room, he didn't hesitate to put a bullet in him.

After clearing the room from the doorway he jogged over to me and pulled out a knife, cutting my hands and feet free. I gasped in pain and drew my hands into my chest, rubbing at my raw skin gently.

Tears pricked my eyes, but I bit my lip, fighting it. John gave me a reassuring look and took my arm, "Come on" he murmured softly, helping me to stand and get out of the bucket of ice water.

I crumpled, unable to stay standing. My feet were white, totally numb and unable to move. My entire body was one large screaming wound, and all I wanted was the blissful peace of unconsciousness.

I felt his arms go around me, lifting me effortlessly into his arms, preventing my body from dashing to the concrete floor. My head spun as I laid it against his chest, and before I sank back into the darkness of exhaustion murmured, "Thanks John."

* * *

A repeat number was unusual for the machine, especially when I had already saved the person from near certain death. If your number was coming up again, it was usually domestic violence, gang involvement, or stupidity.

A brief smile crossed my lips at the memory of Leon…a repeat number who never seemed to learn to stay out of trouble. I sighed softly, at least he kept things interesting.

In this case it was a little bit of the last two. Not on the part of our number, but on the gang of Russian mobsters. Apparently they hadn't learned their lesson the last time I had been in town.

I lifted Katrina higher onto my shoulder and kept my gun trained on the doors as I strode through the building, intent on keeping her alive. She had been through hell already; the last thing she needed was to get shot on her way out.

I had promised her last time that she would be safe, and I had thought we had defanged the Russians enough to keep them away from her, but apparently my work here in Chicago wasn't done.

A grim smile crossed my lips; that was fine with me, I had plenty of issues that could use some working out on Russian kneecaps.


	2. Saving Grace Chapter 2

As I drove I glanced over at Katrina and was again dully shocked at the transformation that three days of torture and a year of stress had wrought. My research into her life had shown that since I had saved her, things hadn't slowed down or eased up.

Her caseload had only increased, and the FBI had become a central figure in her life, all of which stressed her out and sent her to the gym for long hours after she had already burnt herself out at work.

I could see that where there once had been curves, there was now lean muscle and strength. Her digital records showed her attending self defense classes and she had purchased a taser; she had been prepared for attack, but the Russians had been better prepared and had probably outmanned her.

After three days of confinement and near starvation her cheekbones were too prominent and her wrist bones were tight against her skin. I could see burn marks on her skin and other signs of torture that made me want to drive back to the warehouse and finish off the Russians-not simply kneecap them.

I pulled into the parking garage for my apartment and shut the car off. Picking Katrina up off the seat and carrying her into the elevator, I was stunned at her lightness. I resolved to get her fed as soon as possible.

The elevator came to a stop on the fifth floor, and I exited, carrying Katrina into my apartment, kicking the door shut after us. I carried her into the bedroom and laid her down gently on the bed. She hadn't moved or made a sound since the warehouse; if it wasn't for her breathing I wouldn't know she was alive.

I left the room briefly to gather some bandages, warm water in a basin and a rag. I sat next to Katrina on the bed and stripped off her tank top, exposing her sports bra and abdomen.

I wiped her face off gently, wiping away the grime and the blood. There were dark circles under her eyes, and the lines of exhaustion on her face made my jaw tense in anger.

It had been a year since Finch and I had saved her, and at that time she had looked strong and beautiful. Now she looked destroyed.

She should have been able to live her life with a sense of peace, knowing that she was safe, but instead she had felt haunted and had apparently never truly been safe.

A low noise of frustration escaped me and I shook my head, trying to set aside my anger.

After I finished wiping down her torso, I gently worked off her pants and wiped down her legs. I pulled a pair of my sweatpants and a tshirt out of the dresser and dressed her. I tucked her body under the sheets, brushing her long red hair out of her face.

Katrina's breathing deepened, and I sat by the bed watching her sleep. After I was assured she was resting comfortably, I stood and left the room, heading for the study.

I looked over the whiteboard, at Katrina's picture and the pictures of the Russian mob men who had been holding her. After she had gone missing nearly four days ago I had heard the BOLO go out on her, and I had proceeded to break into her apartment and office to try and figure out why she was gone.

Once I had seen her case files on the Russian mobsters she was prosecuting and the death threats at her apartment, I knew it was the Russians who had taken her. It seemed that the job we had done last year was not finished.

Sighing, I sat down in my favorite wingback chair and closed my eyes, it had been a long three days, and I too needed rest. If Katrina roused, I would hear her, and be able to stop her from going anywhere. I closed my eyes and decided a short nap was in order.

* * *

I awoke a short time later, refreshed, in need of a shower, but unwilling to disturb Katrina's rest. I shrugged out of my suit jacket and headed to the kitchen to prepare some food for when Katrina awoke.

I set water and eggs to boil, and sliced up two avocados along, scraping them into a bowl, topping them with garlic powder, salt, pepper, paprika, lemon juice and tuna. It wasn't going to be the most amazing food she had ever had, but it would help her regain her strength.

I left the eggs boiling and went to check on Katrina, looking in on her from the doorway. She had pulled the covers up to her chin in her sleep and was looking flushed.

I moved to her side and placed a hand on her forehead gently, "Shit" I murmured, she felt like she was on fire. A spiking temp meant that one of her many cuts were probably infected; no surprise there.

I went into the bathroom, looking through my stash of medical supplies for antibiotics. I grabbed the bottle of Doxycycline and a glass of water and headed back into the room.

I leaned down and pulled Katrina up into a somewhat sitting position, her head lolling against my shoulder. I gently tapped her face with my hand, "Come on Katrina, wake up for me….come on now" I murmured softly into her ear.

She moaned and I saw her eyes flutter briefly before staying shut. I tapped her face again, "Katrina, I need you to open your mouth and take this medicine, can you do that?"

She moaned again and her lower jaw dropped open, just barely. I slipped the pills into her mouth, and tilted her head back, pouring a small amount of water into her mouth. She swallowed, choking a little, and then dropped her head heavily onto my shoulder, the effort having exhausted her. I laid her back down and pulled the blankets down to her waist, trying to get her to cool down.

I sat by her bedside and watched her toss and turn restlessly. I had taken out the mobsters who had been holding her captive, but the bosses who had ordered her kidnapping were still out there.

I wanted more information on them.

I went back into the kitchen and pulled the eggs off the stove letting them cool before I headed into the study to research.

Hours later I stood in front of the whiteboard and looked at the web of names and photos I had amassed. Katrina had managed to piss off the entire Russian mob organization, from what I could tell.

Sighing, I ran a hand over my face. I looked over at the clock, it was 7:45pm, and I hadn't heard anything from Katrina. I went back to the bedroom and saw that she was lying in a ball in the middle of the bed with the sheets in a tangle around her.

I leaned down and placed a hand on her forehead, it was still warm, but not nearly as hot as before. Sighing, I pulled her back up and forced some more antibiotics down her throat with some water.

I sat down in the chair beside the bed and watched over Katrina while she slept. Eventually, sleep came for me, my eyes growing heavy, the last thing I saw between heavy lids—Katrina.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to the sound of Katrina coughing and moving in the bed. I sat up and stretched, yawning, rubbing a hand over my face. I looked over to Katrina and saw that she was trying to sit up, but didn't have the strength.

I moved to her side and helped her sit up, propping the pillows up behind her. "Thanks" she whispered, her dark green eyes flicking up to mine. I nodded and stepped back, sitting back down in the chair.

I handed her a glass of water which she accepted with a grateful nod. She drank half the glass in two large swallows, sighing when she was done. She started coughing and placed a hand to her throat, wincing.

After her coughing had subdued she turned her gaze back to me and whispered, "Thank you for rescuing me…again. It's John right?" I nodded. She shifted in the bed, "Well I appreciate your timing" she said with a weak smile.

I gave her a thin smile and stood, "My timing could have been better. I should have gotten to you before the Russians did."

Katrina shrugged and winced faintly, "Still, you came when no one else did. I appreciate it."

I swallowed hard and glanced away, "Are you hungry?" I muttered.

"I could eat a horse" Katrina joked with a soft laugh.

I made a low noise of assent, "Mmm, why don't you take a bath and afterwards you can have some breakfast?" I suggested.

The smile she gave me was filled with such relief that it made my heart contract. Her eyes had filled with tears and I saw her glance away for a moment before turning back to nod eagerly.

I gave her a brief smile in return and headed into the bathroom to draw a bath, filling the tub with hot water and Epsom's salts to help keep her wounds clean. After a few moments I headed back into the bedroom and stood next to the bed, "Let me help you to the tub" I said, offering her my hand.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and placed her hand in mine, rising unsteadily from the bed. We walked slowly to the bathroom where she sat down with a grateful sigh on the toilet.

"Can you undress yourself and get in ok?" I asked her hesitantly. I had already undressed her once, which was obvious to us both, but doing it while she was conscious was another matter entirely.

She nodded, averting her gaze. "Ok, I'll be in the kitchen, shout if you need me." I walked out of the bathroom, leaving the door cracked behind me as I went.

I looked at the food I had prepared yesterday and decided to add it to some quinoa, making it into a filling, if strange, breakfast.

* * *

I tugged at the hem of the large t-shirt and pulled it over my head slowly, biting my lip to keep from crying out in pain. My ribs were a spectrum of different colored bruises, all of them painful.

My sports bra was worse, it rubbed against the cigarette burns as it came off and I did cry that time.

By the time I had all my clothes off I was crying silently, my body shaking in pain.

I looked down at my bare body and cringed at the bruises and burns that were now visible. What a mess.

I stepped into the tub of hot water and hissed at the heat, sinking into it slowly. I relaxed against the tub, letting the heat of the water work on my body and spirit. My tears slowed and I eventually felt the tension in my body ease.

I slowly washed my skin and hair, feeling more like myself than I had in days. I eventually stood, unstopping the drain and watched as the water drained away, slightly pink from the blood that had come from my many wounds.

I toweled off gently, wrapping my hair and body in the warm plush towels. I stood, looking into the mirror, taking in my black right eye and the cut above my left brow that was weeping blood again.

I grabbed some tissues and pressed them to the cut before heading out to the kitchen. John looked up at my entrance, stirring a pot of something. He frowned at my appearance, "Let me take a look at that" he said abandoning his spoon to pull away the tissue from my head.

He made a low humming noise and then backed away, heading into the bedroom for a moment before returning with a butterfly bandage for my cut. After taping it, he rubbed his thumb across it gently, "There you go" he murmured softly, giving me a smile.

I smiled back at him gratefully. "Uhm, question. May I borrow some more clothes?" I asked.

He nodded, "Help yourself to anything." I smiled my thanks and began my slow walk back to the bedroom to find something to wear.

I pulled open one of John's dresser drawers and found boxers, "Excellent" I whispered, pulling them on, followed by a tshirt and a zip up hoodie I purloined from the closet.

I sat down on the bed, the effort of getting dressed tiring me. I sat finger combing my long red hair, trying to work out the knots. After a few minutes I was finished and headed back into the kitchen, where whatever John was making was smelling delicious.

I sat down at the kitchen table and was grateful when John placed a plate full of food in front of me. I dug in, groaning with pleasure at the first food I had eaten in three days.

"Go slow" he encouraged in his deep smoky voice. I stopped eating, taking a large sip of water.

I nodded, "Yea I know. It's hard though." I glanced up to him and was grateful to see him eating as well; it would have just been weird to have him watch me eat. I dug back into my food, thoroughly enjoying myself.

"After you finish you'll probably be tired again." John said.

I shrugged; I didn't feel like sleeping, "Can we watch tv or something?" I asked. John gave a low laugh, "I don't have one, sorry."

I paused eating to glance up at him, "What do you point your furniture at?" I said with a grin.

His lips curled into a faint smile, "The windows."

I smiled and shook my head, I guess when you're in the business of saving people and running around all the time hiding your identity, you don't have time to watch TV.

After I finished eating I moved to the couch in his living room, pulling a blanket down onto my lap. John sat across from me, "Ok, I need to ask you about your cases from the past year, what can you tell me about them?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "They've varied, honestly. I've gone after the Russians, but also other gangs, and any other cases that come across my desk."

We talked for the next few hours, going into the details of all my cases, as I could remember them, with me growing steadily more tired until John called me to a halt. "Alright, that's enough for now, go take a nap." I nodded at him gratefully, and stood, before getting lightheaded and swaying on the spot. John stood rapidly, catching me up in his arms.

"Come on trouble maker" he said, a warm smile on his lips- and I thought how nice it looked. He carried me to bed and I was already almost asleep when my head hit the pillow.

The last thing I heard him whisper, "Get some sleep, we have work to do."


	3. Saving Grace Chapter 3

I awoke the next morning feeling sore, but rested for the first time in days. I sat up, running a hand through the unruly mess that was my hair, wincing as my fingers caught a snarl. I doubted John had a woman's hair brush, so I just used my fingers to work out some of the snarls. After a few minutes I got out of bed and wandered into the living room, coming to a halt when I saw that John was still asleep on the couch. I looked at his sleeping figure and wondered again, how he had been able to find me. This man was a mystery, but one I was so grateful for. I smiled at his feet hanging off the couch; he was too large for his own couch, which was kind of silly. I tiptoed away from the couch and into the den, and stopped short at the sight of the whiteboard, covered in pictures of me, the Russian mob, my boss, and countless other people. John had been collecting information on me for awhile then…watching me, protecting me…at least that is what I could assume from the sight before me. I tensed at the sound of footsteps behind me; John's voice came from behind my shoulder, "I thought we had saved you last year. I thought the problem was gone. Then…we got information about four months ago that you were in trouble again, but it was at the same time we were in trouble. We…I had to run from something, and I came here, hoping I could help you and myself." His voice trailed off, and he moved to stand next to me, staring at the board. I glanced up at him, taking in his stony visage. He sighed, "I thought I would be able to head off the issue with the mob before it got to the point it did." He looked down at me, sorrow in his eyes, "I am sorry you ended up where you did, and so badly hurt because of me."

I looked up at him in surprise, "That wasn't your fault John. It was my prosecution and work with the FBI on bringing down the mob that put me there. "I frowned, "Frankly I'm a little surprised the FBI didn't show up for me, they were tailing me, making sure I was safe." John made a noise of disdain, "They were in the mob's pocket. That's why they didn't show." My mouth twisted, the FBI and I would be having words about _that _when this was over. I placed a hand over my heart, running a finger over the burns, adding them to the tab that was running in my head of all the shit that was going to go down between me, the Russians and the FBI. I thanked God that the Russians hadn't ever decided that rape as a torture method would have been a good idea. They had beaten the hell out of me, but thank God, not that. I flinched again when John's hand broke my reverie, "Sorry" he said, quickly removing his hand from my shoulder. "It's ok" I muttered.

I looked up at John, "So how are we taking these bastards down?" I asked with a grim smile. John assessed my face and then answered, "Well, how would you feel about going back to work? Acting like nothing happened." He continued to watch my face, waiting for my reaction. I smiled up at him slowly, "So you want me to draw them out right?" he nodded, "Precisely". I thought for a moment, "Well, I should probably be back at my place then, get back to a normal routine. Right?" John nodded, "Yea, and I'll be there to protect you, even if you can't see me." I sighed, "Well, then I suppose we should head over to my place then."

We headed down to the parking garage where John surprised me by walking not to the car we had entered in, but to a motorcycle. Looking at it skeptically, I stood by it, watching as John got on, put on his helmet and held another out for me. I sighed, "Finnnnneee", and grabbed the helmet, sliding onto the back of the motorcycle, holding onto John tightly. I had ridden before, but only a few times, and with an ex boyfriend who had liked to scare me. As we drove to my apartment, I found that John was a fast but efficient driver, and I found myself enjoying the ride. We pulled to a stop in front of my apartment building, and I hopped off the bike, handing John my helmet. He flipped his visor up for a moment, "Your purse is with the reception. I'll be in touch." I nodded and headed into the building. As I walked up to the reception desk, I saw the young girl's eyes bug, and then try to recover to a more neutral expression. She smiled at me, "Uhh good morning Miss Woodson. We haven't seen you in awhile. How have you been?" I smiled back, "Just fine, thanks. I was…At a retreat. I took a kickboxing class, and unfortunately took a hit to the face!" She smiled sympathetically, "Would you like your purse? Your boyfriend dropped it off." I grinned, "Yes please Chelsea." She handed it to me and I waved goodbye before heading to the elevators, grateful for a retreat into silence. I looked at myself in the mirrors in the elevator and winced, I looked so awful. Well, three days of torture will do that to you.

I got off at my floor and headed happily into my apartment, when I heard my phone beep. I pulled it out and saw a text from John. _Cameras installed in apartment. It's safe, I'm watching. Txt if you need me. _I smiled at his brevity and texted back, _Thanks suit man_. Knowing I wouldn't get a reply, I simply smiled and relaxed with the knowledge that I was safe, John was close, and I could now shower in my own apartment.

An hour later, I had showered; shaved, braided my hair, had an avocado/clay face mask on, and was giving myself a mani-pedi. I was planning on taking a nap when I was done, when I heard my phone ringing. I looked at the ID and saw it was my boss, Thomas Carmichael. I sighed, answered and put the phone on speaker. "Hello Tom." "Katrina?! Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you for days!" Tom's distinctive british accent was harsher with annoyance and a tinge of fear. "Hey, sorry Tom. I left town on a spur of the moment trip to go see family. It was an emergency. I'm sorry. I had no cell reception at all." Tom made a noise of disbelief before continuing his speech, "Well, I expect to see you back at work on Monday." I sighed softly, "Sure thing Tom. We have a lot of work to do on the Russian cases." There was a moment of silence and then, "Damn right. See you Monday." "See you Tom." I hung up the phone, my fears starting to be confirmed. His moment of hesitation wasn't outright confirmation of him working with the Russians, but it wasn't a good sign.

I dropped my phone onto the couch and turned the tv on, time for some Friends while my nails dried. Then a nap…yea definitely a nap.

A few hours later I woke from my nap, refreshed, and hungry. I wandered into the kitchen and stood looking into my empty fridge, stomach demanding food. I picked up my phone and texted John, _Is it safe to order pizza?_ Seconds later he replied, _Extra cheese and a six pack of beer sound good? _I smiled, _Sounds like heaven. _I went to my room and looked through my closet, looking for something to wear that would cover up my body. I settled on my bottle green sweater dress, grey tights, and brown ankle boots. I had just finished washing the mask off of my face when I heard the doorbell ring. I hurriedly wiped my face off, drying it quickly and went into the living room, grabbing my wallet on my way to the front door.

I took a second and looked through the peephole before busting up laughing. I opened the door, still laughing at the sight of John in a pizza delivery uniform. He smiled at me, "Evening ma'am. Extra cheese pizza and a six pack of Blue Moon for you. That will be $22." "Please come in" I said with a laugh. He smirked at me, entering my apartment. He set the pizza and beer down on my coffee table, before asking, "Bottle opener?" I pointed to the kitchen, "In the drawer to the left of the dishwasher." John nodded and came back a minute later with my bottle opener and popped open two beers, handing me one, clinking his against mine, "Cheers" he said softly. "To not being tortured" I said wryly. His face went still for a moment and then he smiled thinly, "Yea, to not being tortured". I wondered at the look that had been on his face, it was one of a person who was missing someone. I sat my beer down on the coffee table and went into the kitchen to grab some paper plates and napkins, handing John his when I came back to the living room. He had already started on a slice, and gratefully accepted the plate and napkin. He gestured to the tv, "You watch this crap? Really?" I looked to see what was on and saw that it was some Real housewives shit, "Oh god no. I fell asleep with the tv on. It's a comforting sound."

We sat eating and drinking for a few minutes in companionable silence until John spoke, "On Monday when you go back to work I'll be working as a guard in the building so you don't have to worry, I'll be close." I nodded and said around a mouthful of pizza, "Thanks John that makes me feel a lot better." He nodded and grabbed the remote changing the channel to some mindless action movie. We sat laughing and watching the movie until I started to fall asleep. I felt a hand shake me awake, "Hey Katrina, come on, let's get you to bed." I smirked up at John and said, "Sounds like a plan big man", surprising both of us with my innuendo. What can I say, when I'm tired or drunk my filters get completely lost. John recovered quickly, laughing off my comment and helped me to my feet.

I realized as I watched him gather up his jacket and head to the door that I was unhappy with the idea of him leaving. I didn't want to be alone. _So speak up dipshit, _my inner voice snarked at me. Sighing, I laid a hand on John's arm, "Umm hey. Would you mind staying tonight? I don't really feel like being alone tonight." He didn't look at me, but still nodded yes. I squeezed his arm in thanks and went to pick up the beer bottles and pizza remnants. A large hand came into my eye line and snatched up the last piece of pizza before I took the box away. I smirked up at him and took the box and beer bottles to the recycling. When I came back to the living room I smiled at the sight of John sprawled on my couch, shoes and socks off, jacket off, watching tv. "Comfy?" I asked with a laugh. He nodded. I shook my head and smiled, "Ok, well the hall bathroom has towels and an extra toothbrush for you. Thank you for staying." I hesitated and then walked over, leaned down and brushed a light kiss across his brow. I walked away quickly, heading for my bedroom, but was still able to hear his soft, "You're welcome."

I left my bedroom door cracked open, leaving the light from the living room filtering in, and the sound of the tv reassuring me that John was still there. I crawled into bed and laid there. Sleep was going to be elusive….damn. The hours ticked by. I looked over to the clock and saw that it was midnight. The volume of the tv had become almost silent and the lights of the living room were off. What were the odd that John was still awake? I decided to get up and see. I tiptoed silently down the hall and was greeted with the sight of a wide awake John. I waved to him, and he waved back, "Couldn't sleep?" I shook my head. I sat down on the couch next to him, pulling the blanket down onto my legs. "What are you watching?" He shrugged, "Some cooking show." I nodded, "Those are the best for when you can't sleep." I looked over at him out of the corner of my eye and could see he looked tired, so why hadn't he gone to sleep? Thinking about that someone again?

I pointed to the side of the couch, "If you pull the handle it reclines." After he had reclined his section of the couch I grabbed a pillow, propped it against his side and lay against him. I glanced up, "You don't mind do you?" He shook his head no and to my surprise, wrapped an arm around my back, and flipped off the tv. "Get some sleep Katrina." His voice was soft and low and his hand was warm on my back. "You too John" I murmured, already falling asleep.

I watched as Katrina fell asleep, her breathing steadying. After all she had been through it was no surprise she had asked me to stay. What was a surprise was how protective I already felt towards her. I shook my head; I needed to stay clear headed. The last person I had felt protective of, felt emotional towards, had been killed. My heart clenched, I could still feel Carter dying in my arms, as I held Katrina in my arms now. I clenched my jaw and tried to focus on the here and now. Sleep would not be my friend tonight, yet that would be no problem for me, because the nightmares of watching Carter die had been happening all too often lately. I sighed. It was going to be a long night.

**Thanks for reading guys! Hope you enjoy! Please review! :D**


	4. Saving Grace Chapter 4

I awoke the next morning to the sound of John moving around my kitchen. I walked into my kitchen and leaned against the doorway watching as John prepared scrambled eggs and toast. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed some plates from the cupboards and set them down beside the stove. I grabbed some glasses and asked, "What do you want? I have juice, milk and water." John glanced up from the stove quickly, "Juice please." I nodded and poured us both a glass of orange-mango juice, walking out to the table and setting them down. A moment later John appeared next to me with two plates of scrambled eggs and toast. I walked back into the kitchen for some butter and orange marmalade. I sat down across from John and smiled at him, "Thank you for making breakfast, it looks really good!" John gave me a shadow of a smile and picked up his fork to dig in, "You're welcome. Now eat. You're too skinny." I stared at him for a moment and then laughed, picking up my fork and digging in to the eggs. I made a noise of appreciation, and grinned at John, "That is so good!" He grinned back. After we had finished breakfast John shooed me out of the kitchen to go get ready for work.

I stripped off my pajamas and put on clean bra and underwear and stood in front of my full length mirror. I winced; my body was covered in bruises and cuts. My face was also a wreck. I sighed; I was going to have a heck of a time covering up the bruises on my face. I pulled on my tights and then slathered on deodorant, followed by my perfume. I walked over to my vanity and sat down, assessing my face. I used my yellow concealer to cover the dark blue/purple bruises under my eyes and across my right cheek. I followed it up with foundation and then a sheer finishing powder, pleased with the results. I applied mascara, some bronze eyeliner, and a lighter smoky eye. I sprayed my face with a light mist of makeup holding spray, and then grabbed my dress and pulled it over my head. I checked my makeup, and saw that it was still fine. I pulled my hair out of its messy bun and worked some of the knots out of the long red mass. I worked some leave in conditioner in and twisted my hair into loose waves. I slipped on some jewelry and my boots and grabbed my work bag, tossing in some makeup in case I needed to keep touching up my makeup, and headed out to the living room.

John was sitting on the couch watching the news when I walked in and looked up at me. I motioned to my face, "How does it look?" He assessed, "It's good. There is still a shadow on your cheek, but you can pass that off if you tell your kickboxing story." I nodded. I walked to the closet by the front door and grabbed my black pea coat. It was just October, but in Chicago, it was fucking cold. I pulled on my coat and opened the door, holding it for John, "After you." He smirked at me and exited my apartment. I followed him, locking the door behind us. We walked in silence to my car where John stood with me for a moment, "I'll see you there. It's going to be fine." I nodded at him and slid into my car, turning on the heat as soon as I started the car.

On the short drive over to my office I thought about all that had happened to me recently and about the board with all the pictures on it at John's place. My boss's picture had been up, but John had told me he wasn't positive of his motives yet. I would just have to feel him out. I parked and walked into the building, passing through security and then headed up to the third floor to my office.

Upon my entrance into our suite I saw our receptionists head whip up and stare at me. I smiled at her, "Hey Grace. How's it going?" She didn't answer, just stared. "Ooookay then." I muttered. I walked past her and headed towards my bosses office, knowing Tom would want to see me. I knocked on his doorframe and then entered the room. He looked up at me, assessing me and then smiled. "It's good to see you Katrina. We were all worried about you." I smiled back at him, but saw past the smile on his face and saw the worry in his eyes as something other than worry for my wellbeing. It was worry that I was alive. He had the look of people I had prosecuted, people who had fucked up, and were on the hook for it, but were trying to cover it up with false happiness. "I am happy to see you too Tom. I'm sorry you guys were worried. I just needed a break. I'm going to go settle back into my office. Want to have lunch together and catch up later?" I saw that flash of dread in his eyes before he smiled brightly at me, "Oh wish I could love, but I have to be in court."I nodded, "Ok no worries!" I waved goodbye as I headed out the door and walked down the hall to my office.

I sank down into my plush leather chair, kicked my boots off under the desk and curled my feet up under me. I pulled my case files out of my bag and started studying them. These were the cases I had been working on before I had been taken. The Russian mob. The ones that had precipitated my capture and torture. It couldn't just be about John that was obvious. If they had gotten to my boss, then they had a reason to be watching me, a reason to be trying to prevent their men from being prosecuted. (Other than the obvious fear of snitches, which their men usually didn't do.) I sighed, focusing my attention on my case files from last week, taking notes until there was no more to do. I stacked them off to the side and then pulled the new stack of case files that had piled up in my short absence. I spent the next four hours taking notes, making calls, pacing, and working.

Finally, I when I was sitting at my desk again, finishing up a call, I saw my cell phone ringing, it was John. I hung up the one phone and answered John's call, "Hey stranger" I said, smiling tiredly. "Hi. How's the day going?" he asked, his voice low and rough. I sighed, "Well, my boss and the receptionist both seemed surprised and upset at seeing me. So I'm guessing that they are in with the mob. Which breaks my heart because I really liked both of them." I took a deep breath, my voice had gotten shaky, I was tired and hungry and emotional. I placed a hand over my face and kept speaking, "I don't know why they are working with them for sure yet, but it may have something to do with the human trafficking thing we've been working on." John made a hmmm-ing noise and then spoke, "Keep looking into it. And eat something. It's past lunchtime." I was about to retort when I realized that he had hung up.

I sighed, laughing softly, and leaned back in my chair, pulling on my boots. He was right I needed to go get some lunch. Not a desk lunch, but a real lunch. I pulled on my coat and walked out of the building and down the street to this little diner that had the best country fried steak in the city. I ordered it with hash browns and a sweet tea. After having spent all my summers with my grandma in Macon, Georgia, I had gotten used to southern food. I spent the next hour simply enjoying my food and reading a novel. I normally would have worked on a case or made calls, but I relaxed this time. Torture for days has a way of shifting your priorities. After I finished my lunch I headed back to the office and continued to work on the new case files I had gotten, making calls to arresting officers, detectives and witnesses.

At some point Tom stuck his head in and made noise about leaving for the day, to which a waved a hand and kept working. It was only when there was a knock on my door, and a deep voice said, "Hey stranger. Working hard I see" did I look up and see John's form filling my door. All the lights were out in the suite except my desk light, making him stand in deep shadows with little light cast onto his face. I sighed, running a hand through my hair and gave him tired smile, "Hey secret agent man. How was your day?" He laughed at my nickname and sat in the chair across from me. "Good, I've been able to plant bugs and cameras all throughout the building, and now in here. We have pretty good access that I can monitor at my place, and can make sure you're safe if I can't be here." I nodded slowly, thoughtfully, "Ok, I'm going to bring home these case files, I still have work to do tonight." John stared at me for a moment, "Don't work too hard, you need to get some rest tonight." I looked up at him, "I'll rest when the bastards who are behind my kidnapping and torture are behind bars or dead." We both sat in the tense silence for a long time until finally; I sighed and stood up, gathering the files into my bag. I grabbed my coat and looked to John, "If you want to come over tonight and help me figure out this sex trafficking ring and how it relates to me that would be helpful. I'll make dinner." John stood, "Sounds good, meet you there."

I was standing in my kitchen in my softest cotton pajama bottoms and a tank top with my hair in a low side ponytail, stirring a homemade tomato sauce for the pasta that was boiling when my phone chirped to alert me I had a text. I grabbed the phone and saw it was John, _At the front door. _I quickly responded, _Come in, it's open. _A few moments later I heard footsteps behind me and then in a chastising voice I heard John say, "It's really unwise to leave your front door unlocked when someone is trying to kill you." Without looking up I reached into the open jar labeled _Sugar _and pulled out a Glock, laying it on the counter. I glanced up at John and motioned to the cutting board nearby, "Can you please chop some more garlic?" He stared at me for a moment and then shook his head in disbelief, although I could see a smile on his face, as he moved to start chopping the garlic. I drained the pasta and tossed it in with the pasta sauce and sausage, adding the freshly chopped garlic from John and then motioned for him to go sit down, "I already set the table." We ate, reading over case files, making notes, and reading out loud things we thought were important. As I was doing the dishes John began to make a web of information much like the one in his apartment on my living room wall.

We stood before it, and I could see there was a lot of missing information. I glanced to John, "I'll work on taking notes on the sex trafficking cases from earlier this year and see about bringing them home." He nodded. I looked at the clock and wasn't shocked by the fact that it read midnight. I looked to John, "I'm going to bed. Please feel free to stay again. It's late and we're both tired." He really did look tired, I was worried. John shrugged out of his jacket and laid it on the back of my couch before laying down on it himself. I smiled at him and asked, "Do you need anything?" He shook his head no, "I'm good. Get some sleep Katrina. You need to heal." I flipped off the lights and went into my room, leaving the door cracked once again. I wiped off my makeup, wincing as I brushed against my bruises. Climbing into bed I sighed deeply, I was so tired. I said a silent prayer to God, thanking him for giving me my saving grace, for giving me John. I knew my life wasn't about to get any easier, and the only way I could get through it alive was with this man.


	5. Saving Grace Chapter 5

I woke up early the next morning and headed down to the gym, sneaking past John's sleeping form on my couch. He snored in his sleep! I giggled as I shut the door softly behind me. I ran on the treadmill for thirty minutes working up a sweat and then jumped off, heading over to the boxing body bag. I had taken boxing classes for self defense purposes, but they were of little use when someone tases you from behind. I pounded out my frustrations with my life on the body bag for another half an hour, sweat pouring off my body. I finally stopped, grabbing onto the bag, breathing heavily. I pulled back, wiping off my face, and grabbed a towel from the rack, wiping off my face, neck and chest. I rode the elevator back up to my apartment and as I closed the door behind me softly I heard John speak from the couch, "You shouldn't be going off alone." I sighed, "Yea well, I was working out. It's not like there was a lack of weapons there if I needed one." John's head popped up from the couch and gave me a serious look, "You haven't regained enough weight and energy yet to be working out like that." I stared him down, knowing he was right, I felt weak and tired from a workout that I had toned down from my normal schedule. After the last year and the days of torture and starvation, I was not the same woman I had been before. I had begun to eat more food in the last day or so, but I had over the last year lost nearly 20 pounds that I didn't really have to lose. I sighed deeply, running a hand over my face; I was already so damn tired. I walked over to the couch and sat down heavily.

John reached over and grabbed my wrist, gently registering my pulse. After a moment he nodded, "Your heart is ok, how's your breathing?" I placed a hand over my chest, "It's good, no problems, I just had to take it a little slower." He nodded again, "Ok, go shower and I'll make you breakfast." I nodded and stood, swaying as my head spun. I felt a strong hand grasp my waist, steadying me. My eyes cleared, and I looked down at John, whose hand was still on my waist, "Thanks." He nodded, "You ok?" I nodded, "Yea, I'm just tired and need to eat. I'm going to go shower." He took his hand off my waist and stood, giving me a small smile before heading to the kitchen. I walked down the hall and into the bathroom, flipping on the shower, stripping off my top and shorts, kicking off my shoes and stripping off my socks, and sat down heavily on the toilet. I looked at my legs, at the bruises covering them and wanted to cry. I looked down at my ribcage and grimaced at the purple green bruises covering my side. I stripped off my sports bra and underwear and climbed into the shower, letting the hot water wash over my sore body. As I stood under the steady stream of water I felt something inside of me collapse, and I sank to the floor, sobbing. It felt as though there was a monster inside my chest clawing its way out, I was gasping for breath, sobbing. I sat clutching my sides, rocking, reliving the torture, the pain. After a time, I became silent, still. I finally stood and began to wash myself, feeling empty, hollow. I had been going for so long that I hadn't allowed the pain to catch up until now. I wrung out my hair and shut off the water.

I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my towel, drying off, and then wrapped my hair in it. I ensconced myself in my robe, tying it tightly around my waist. I opened the door and walked down the hall to my bedroom. I sat down heavily in front of my vanity and toweled off my hair, looking at my flushed face and reddened eyes. I sighed, brushing out my hair, I was a mess. _I wonder if I can get away with calling out sick…probably not_…I thought to myself, sighing deeply. I sat for a long time, simply staring at myself, wondering what the hell my life had become. There was a knock at my door and I glanced up, "Yea, come in." John cracked the door and poked his head in, "Hey, breakfast is ready if you are." I stood, tightening my robe, "Yea sure, just a sec." He nodded and his head disappeared, the door shutting behind him. I slid some panties on and knotted my robe; it was still early enough that I had plenty of time to get dressed after breakfast and still be on time for work. I walked down the hall and sat at the table, impressed to see a smoothie, eggs, toast with peanut butter, and apple slices. I dug in with a ferocity born of mental and physical exhaustion, and only paused when I heard a light cough. I glanced up and saw John giving me the smallest of smiles, "Did you want to breathe in between bites?" he asked teasingly. I set my fork down and kept chewing, swallowing my food before taking a large swallow of the smoothie. "Sorry, I'm just hungry. And tired." I said after swallowing, making an apologetic face at him.

I sat for a moment, just staring at my plate, thinking of the moment that the cigarettes had touched my skin, I could almost feel the skin burning again. I flinched hard when John's hand touched mine, my eyes flashing up to his. "Hey" he whispered, keeping his hand on mine, "What's going on in your head? Don't keep it locked up, or it'll kill you." My gaze was focused on the table, unwavering, my eyes filling with tears. I spoke to the table, "I keep feeling them torturing me, keep hearing their voices in my dreams, i-I remember wishing I was dead" I whispered. There was a long moment of silence and then John spoke, "I've had a lot of those times. I've done a lot to be ashamed of…and though I never actually tried to kill myself, I certainly put myself in plenty of situations where I could have been killed" he paused for a moment and I could feel his eyes on me, "You did nothing wrong, you fought hard to stay alive, and you lasted longer than most people would have. You are strong and brave, and there is nothing wrong with having a difficult time dealing with what you went through." He put a hand beneath my chin and forced me to look up at him, tears streamed down my face, but I held his gaze. "You can do this. I will help you be strong." I took a deep shuddering breath and nodded, "OK" I whispered. He gazed at me and wiped away the tears from my cheeks, eliciting another shuddering breath from me. I broke my gaze from his and focused back on my food, both of us eating in silence.

I retreated to my room after I finished eating, dressing quickly and doing up my face again. I sighed tiredly, staring at myself in the mirror. I didn't know how to keep going anymore, I guess it was the momentum of moving forward that kept me going. I stood, grabbed my bag and headed out to the living room where John was waiting for me. I grabbed my coat from the hall closet and stood waiting at the door. We headed out together in silence. I saw John following me on his motorcycle and was comforted that he was staying so close. It was going to be a long day, I had to be in court first thing, and god knows how long that would take.

**Hours Later**

I sunk into my chair at my desk, it was 6pm, I had just gotten out of court an hour ago, managed to grab some dinner from Chipotle, and now I was getting ready to work on my paperwork from the court case for at least another hour. I looked up at a knock on my door and saw my boss standing in the door, "Hey Tom, what's up?" I asked with a small, tired smile. He smiled back, "Nothing just surprised to see you're still here. What are you working on?" I motioned to the paperwork on my desk, "Just the papers from today's case. Making sure I'm caught up." He nodded and waved goodbye, "I'll see you later then." I waved goodbye and went back to my work. I zoned out, working on the case, until I looked up at the clock and saw it was 8pm. I sighed, I needed to work on the sex trafficking case, but I would have to do it from home. I gathered up the sex trafficking cases and headed back to my apartment, coming to halt in the living room when I saw John sitting on my couch watching tv. I sighed, "By all means make yourself at home." He twisted his head around and grinned at me, "OK." I dropped my bag by the couch and headed to my room to change. I pulled on sweats and a tshirt and headed out to the couch to work on the files. I handed John a stack of 6 files along with a notepad and kept 8 for myself. I looked to him, "Take notes on anything that seems odd or connected." We went to work and spent the next two hours taking notes and discussing what we found. Finally, as it was approaching 11, I put down the file I was working on and ran a hand over my face. "I'm going to bed, I'm done." John nodded and asked quietly, "You want me to stay?" I glanced at him briefly, "If you wouldn't mind." He gave me a small smile, "Of course not." I walked into my bedroom and climbed into bed, quickly falling asleep.

I awoke a few hours later from dreams, memories really, of torture. I was screaming into my pillow, crying. My bedroom door burst open and John was at my bedside, gun in hand, scanning the room. I was curled into a ball in my bed, weeping. I felt the bed sink as John sat down behind me, and then felt him gather me into his arms, rocking me gently. He had pulled my face into his chest and was rubbing my back gently, making soft shushing noises. I cried softly for a time until I had no more energy to cry. I lay with my head on John's chest, waiting for sleep to come again. He held me softly and spoke quietly, "It's going to be ok. I won't let them hurt you ever again. I swear." I lay shaking, taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself. John shifted us so we were lying down, covering us with the blankets. He held me tightly, humming softly until I felt myself starting to drift off to sleep. My last coherent thought was that I had never felt safer.

I stared down at the tiny woman in my arms. The last person I had known with this much determination to right a wrong was Carter, and though they were physically nothing alike, I thought that Carter would have like Katrina a lot. They had the same sarcastic sense of humor and a brilliant smile that could cut straight to your heart. I watched Katrina sleep, and knew I was in trouble when I felt my heart tumble like it hadn't in a long time. I held her close and vowed to keep her safe. I would do better than last time. I wouldn't let her die. I couldn't handle that again.


	6. Saving Grace Chapter 6

Waking up in a cocoon of warmth, I looked down at the face of the fiery red head currently snug in my arms. She had slept peacefully in my embrace all night, with no further nightmares. Lying silently watching her sleep, the slow rise and fall of her chest against mine proved how deeply asleep she was. The rose scent from her shampoo clung to the curly strands of hair. My lips twitched in a small smile; her bruises were starting to fade. She had been so self conscious about them in public, never going without makeup. I had heard her crying in the shower the night before, and had politely declined to say anything about her reddened eyes when she had come out to work on the mountain of paperwork. It was still early, before her alarm would go off, and I wanted to go back to sleep, but my brain wouldn't shut off. Staring up at the ceiling, I began to think about the sex trafficking and how it was connected to me, and to Katrina's kidnapping. She didn't seem to know any valuable information about the women or the Russian mob, so it must be something that the mob knew that the girls knew that they didn't want getting out. Katrina stirred next to me, her nose brushing against my chest, making a soft groaning noise in the back of her throat. She opened one eye and peered up at me, gave a small grin and then closed her eye.

She moved in tighter to my chest, wiggling her hips to get comfortable, unknowingly sending a jolt through my groin as hers flexed against mine. Instinctively my arm wrapped more tightly around her waist and pulled her even closer. Her hand came to rest on my chest, just above my heart. My muscles tightened beneath her hand, but I made no move to shake her off. Her voice was rough when she spoke, "Morning John." I gave her a small smile and murmured back, "Morning sunshine." She leaned her forehead against my chest and hummed, the vibrations of it travelling through my body, sending jolts of electricity under my skin. "I don't want to get out of bed" she whimpered, groaning as she stretched, her body pressing against mine in all the right ways….NO…all the wrong ways…goddamn this was torture! It's been years since I was with anyone, and Carter and I never got to….sighing deeply I rolled onto my back, removing myself from temptation.

Katrina leaned up on one arm and stared down at me, her face illuminated by the early morning light just peeking around the edges of her curtains. She gave me a look, one I couldn't understand and then threw back the covers, launching herself out of bed. She shivered and looked around the room until her eyes lighted on a hoodie thrown carelessly over her vanity chair. Pulling it on she sighed, "Soooo much better." She looked over at me, "I'll make breakfast. Why don't you take a shower? There are extra towels and such in the closet." I lay on one side, my head propped up by my hand and watched her walk quickly out of the room. A few moments later I heard her Iphone turn one and start playing Michael Buble.

I grinned and reluctantly slid out from under the covers. Walking into her bathroom was like getting an inside look at who she was. Neat and clean, with small candles along the sink, and more in glass vases by the bathtub. This was clearly a refuge for her, someplace to relax. I flipped on the shower and grabbed a clean towel and washcloth from the closet, and quickly stripped, before getting in the shower. The warm water sluiced over my skin, loosening muscles that had tensed at her unknowingly provocative touches. I tried to chase all thoughts of her body against mine, but my body had other ideas. I quickly turned the water to freezing cold and hissed through my teeth at the temperature differential. Luckily for me, it worked, cooling off my body's reaction to Katrina. I washed quickly and toweled off, wrapping it around my waist. Opening the door to the bedroom, I shivered, and quickly went on a hunt for my clothes. Dressing quickly, I toweled off my hair and looked around for a place to leave it. If there was one thing my only long term relationship had taught me, it was not to make a mess of a woman's space. Easiest way to cause the wrong kind of friction. Walking back into the bathroom I located a hook on the door and hung my towel there before heading out to the kitchen for whatever Katrina had cooked. I sniffed, it smelled like scrambled eggs and toast. I came around the corner and stopped short at the sight of her, on her hands and knees, searching in a cabinet for something. _CHRIST_ my mind shouted, taking in the sight of her little shorts barely covering her ass. Running a hand over my face I coughed and asked, "Need a hand?" Her head swiveled and she gave me a frustrated grin, "No I've got it. I thought there was a leak in my sink pipes, but it looks ok." Nodding, I sat down at the table and gave her an expectant look, "You coming?" Sighing she stood and wiped her hands on a towel before sitting down at the table with me.

We ate in silence, her mind clearly somewhere else, which was fine with me, it gave me an opportunity to asses her sex trafficking cases in my head and try to figure out which one was the most important. She stood a few minutes later and looked at the clock, "Shitballs! I have to get ready." I laughed at her unique swearing and motioned her off, "Go, I've got the dishes." She nodded her thanks and ran out of the room, muttering "Shit shit shit" the whole way. Laughing, I stood and gathered up the dishes, washing them by hand quickly. I moved out to the living room and picked up one of the last cases I had been looking at, a young girl of 22, Sasha, who had been forced into sex work at the age of 15. Her picture made me want to hunt every scumbag who had every touched her and break their fucking faces. Her black hair had been pulled back into a bun and you could clearly see the bruises on her neck where someone had tried to strangle her. I looked at the picture for a long moment, a niggling feeling that I was missing something overwhelming me.

I stared at the picture until Katrina came out, dressed for work. She had on brown slacks and an emerald green blouse with a bow on it. Her long red hair was braided to the side, with small pieces framing her face. I stood, handing her the picture, "What do you see?" Her brow furrowed as she looked at the picture, "I-I'm not sure…what should I be seeing?" I shook my head, "I'm not sure, there's just something about the picture." I looked over to the clock, "Come on, we need to go." We headed out the door together, in pursuit of the day.

**Later**

"Your Honor! This man is a member of the Russian mob and has on many occasions made violent and murderous threats to the women he and his cohorts held captive and forced into sex slavery. We ask that he be remanded to MCC." I stared up at the judge, willing him to put this scum behind bars. The judge had sat quietly through my soliloquy, and now stared over to Mikhail Petrov, one of the ring leaders of the sex trafficking. He sighed and looked back to me, "I am inclined to agree with you Miss Woodson, however this man has given up his passport and has submitted a statement that he will agree to wear an electronic monitoring device." I opened my mouth to protest, but my words died as the judge held up a hand, "I am going to take this statement and have Mister Petrov fitted with a monitor today. Court will be adjourned for today." I watched in numb shock as Petrov walked out of court, throwing me a leering smile. My hands tightened into fists, there was no way he wasn't going to go right back to his cronies. A hand tapped my shoulder and I spun, startled, only to see Judge Hartley standing behind me. "Come with me" he said, already walking towards the door. I followed him in silence, letting my anger simmer. We came into his chambers and he removed his robe, hanging it on the rack by his desk, "Please, sit" he said, motioning towards the chairs in front of his desk. I almost refused just to be peevish, but my heels were killing me. Judge Hartley stared at me for a long moment and then shook his head, grinning. "You've got balls, I'll give you that. Listen, I know you wanted this guy behind bars, but look at it this way, now you have a device that will monitor if he steps out of line and tries to commit more crimes. Now you can add to your case." I sat, thinking. What Hartley said wasn't untrue, but it would be hard to catch him up to anything shady. He would behave normally, but still be able to get news to and from his cohorts.

Standing, I nodded to the judge and extended my hand, "Thank you judge. I might not like it, but it makes sense." He shook his head, smiling at me, "Just watch yourself. These Russians have been known to do anything to keep their business theirs." I walked out of the courthouse and stalked down the street to Starbucks, I needed a cup of tea. I ordered my mint mint, inhaling the sweet, cool scent. Walking back outside, I stood in the bitter breeze, letting it sap away my anger. My phone buzzed; pulling it out I saw that an unknown number was calling. Furrowing my brow, I answered, "Hello?" An electronically deepened voice spoke, "Drop the sex trafficking cases Miss Woodson. It's an unhealthy habit you need to drop." The phone went dead and I stared down at it; _what the HELL?!_ I thought to myself.

I restrained the desire to chuck my phone into the street, and instead walked back to my office. Settled securely behind my desk, I kicked off my shoes and curled my feet under me. I pulled out the picture of Sasha, staring at it while I sipped on my tea. Now that John had mentioned it to me, I couldn't stop staring at her picture feeling like there was something there. Sighing, I set the picture down and picked up Petrov's case file. "Time for paperwork! Yaaaaay!" I muttered.

Hours passed by as I worked through both Petrov's file and three others related to him. Sighing, I sat up higher in my chair, stretching my back. Looking around, I saw that the office was dark, everyone was gone. Once again I was the last one here. Looking to the clock I saw it was 7:45pm, past time to go home. Gathering up my files and my jacket, I headed out back to my house. Walking into my apartment, I was surprised to see it empty. "Huuh" I walked into bedroom and stripped off my work clothes, pulling on yoga pants and a soft Yale tshirt that used to be an old boyfriend's. I grabbed my iphone and slipped on my headphones, turning up the music. After lighting some candles, as the thrumming of the dubsteb flowed through my headphones, I began to dance. This was one of my favorite ways of relaxing, just dancing it out. I swayed and swirled my hips, moving around my apartment, just letting go. After nearly 30 minutes I went to the kitchen to put some dinner together. Apparently John wouldn't be joining me tonight. Throwing some marinated chicken into a small casserole dish, I popped it into the oven. I still had at least 40 minutes until it was done. Time to dance! I switched over to some Rihanna and Lady Gaga, singing loudly along with the music, dancing like I hadn't since I had started considering myself too old for the club.

I came to a halt as I took in the sight of John, leaning against the wall, watching me with a wide smile. He quirked an eyebrow at me and in that split second I made a decision. I ripped out my earbuds and placed my iphone on the ihome, the music instantly thrumming out the speakers. I grinned at John and held out a hand, "Come on tough guy!" I wiggled my fingers at him and grinned when he moved away from the wall. I started swaying my hips, lifting my arms above my head, and sang along with Lady Gaga, "Show me your teeth!" I giggled when John bared his in a fierce smile and then began to dance with me, his movements stiff. I tried to control my laughter but couldn't when I saw how uncomfortable he was. I moved closer and laid my hands on his waist, "Move from here. Let the music tell you what to do." He stared down at me for a long moment and then grabbed my right hand laying it on his shoulder, as he began to sway his hips.

His eyes bored into mine as we swayed to the music, his hips brushing mine every few moments. The air sizzled with electricity…_what was this? _My mind screamed. This was John, sweet, dependable John…and yet my body was lighting up like a firecracker. I raised a hand to touch his face when the timer in the kitchen went off. "shit" I muttered moving away, retreating to the kitchen. My heart was racing as I went about prepping the chicken. Pulling some salad out of the fridge I tossed it with the diced chicken, tomatoes, cucumbers, almonds and dried cherries. Portioning it out on the plates, I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Walking back to the table I placed John's plate down and sat across from him, silent.

I hadn't felt sexual attraction like that in a long time. My last boyfriend had been out of the picture for almost two years, and I had only had a single one night stand in that time. John touching me had been wonderful, but at the same time it made me feel as though every scar and bruise on my body was standing out like an ugly, poorly drawn tattoo. I had flashed back to those awful moments when I was being tortured and I only wished to die. The bitterness of those moments had destroyed the happy moment I had been creating with John. As we sat eating in silence, I could feel the tension building between us. I stood quickly when I finished and began washing the dishes, trying to get rid of the feeling that something had changed irrevocably between us.

I felt John behind me, and his hand came around my side, setting his plate in the sink. "Thank you" I murmured. I felt his presence behind me shift away, and I heard him move across the room, until he came into my periphery on my left. Finishing up the dishes I went to the fridge and grabbed two beers. I turned, tossing John his, and wasn't surprised in the least by his ability to catch it. Twisting off the lid, I took a long pull, enjoying the feeling of the alcohol burning my throat ever so slightly. I walked away from John and sat down on the couch, flipping on the tv, searching for a movie. I finally settled on Thor and settled more comfortably on the couch. A few moments later John came in and sat next to me, extending the foot rest and leaning back. We sat, sipping our beers and not really paying attention to the movie, stealing glances at each other. Finally I moved to lay my head on his shoulder, and was surprised to feel him lift his arm and lay it around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

I lay my head on his chest and sighed, whatever had happened earlier wasn't going to prevent me from wanting John by my side to protect me and help me solve this Russian mystery. I sat up suddenly, "Oh my god!" I whispered. John gave me a quizzical look and followed me off the couch, "What is it?" he asked with concern. I ran back to my bedroom and grabbed the picture of Sasha, ran back to the living room and handed it to John. "Do you see her tattoo on her shoulder?" I asked. He looked at the picture closely, "This looks like a roman numeral, like a 3." I handed him the stack of photos of all the other girls, "Now look at their tattoos." He frowned as he flipped through the pictures, "Get a pen" he muttered. I ran to my bag and came up with a sharpie. We flipped through the pictures, marking the number on the girls at the bottom of the page. 27 girls later we had numbered all the pages, and I still wasn't sure what it meant. I looked up to John, "This means something….but what?" He shook his head, "I'm not sure, let me take these back to my place and I'll see what kind of information I can find." He grabbed his jacket and walked out of my apartment.

I stood, feeling the quietness and emptiness of the apartment surrounding me. I walked to my bed and climbed under the blankets, curling into a ball. This all meant something, and I was determined to figure it out. Sighing, I tossed and turned for a long time, trying to get my head to quiet. Finally, I drifted off to sleep.

**John's house**

"I need some help with this one. Thought I would give you a call, see what you can come up with." "Well I have to say, it's good to hear from you, but you are taking a huge risk by calling me." "I know Finch, but this case is getting out of hand. Did you get those pictures I sent to you?" "Of course Mr. Reese, I am running an algorithm now trying to identify a pattern between the women and the numbers. I will call you when I have something." The line clicked dead, and I broke apart the phone, tossing it into the water. I walked away from the river and headed back to my apartment. As I walked, my mind spun back to when Katrina and I were dancing in her apartment. It's not like I don't know how to dance, but I'm much more of a waltz person than the kind of dancing Katrina had been doing. The feeling of her body close to mine was absolute torture of the best kind. As I walked into my apartment, I sank down onto the couch and ran a hand over my face, exhaustion overwhelming me. Kicking off my shoes, I settled in more comfortably and drifted off to sleep, images of Katrina smiling at me passing through my consciousness.

**Hey all! Hope you are enjoying the story, please, please review! I love hearing from you guys! :) **


	7. Saving Grace Chapter 7

Over the next few weeks John and I continued to try to piece together the sex trafficking mystery. I wanted to sit down with the girls, but they were all in protective custody and I would have to give the courts a reason to talk to them. We had told the courts that we had everything we needed for the case, and so I needed to come up with a story. With time I had gained back weight that I had lost over the past year, and my wounds had faded to small scars. John was teaching me self defense and proper gun handling tactics, but I still ended up asking him to stay at least twice a week. We had reverted back to our original positions in the evening, me in bed, him on the couch. My nightmares had subsided with exhaustion, but that didn't mean that the smell of cigarettes didn't still make me nauseous and want to run in the opposite direction. I had a tough gang hit case I was wrapped up in and had been trying to stay on top of the sex trafficking when on a Friday, John sent me a text, _I have info on Sasha and other girls. Meet at yours tonight. _I did a quick fist pump and sent back a short, _awesome! See you then. _After the lunch break I had closing arguments in my gang hit case, and I had a great feeling we would win. After all, the perp had gone into an apartment, killed the person they were supposed to, and then when he realized the victim's kid had seen him, killed an 8 year old.

After the jury was sent to deliberations, I went home, the snow blustering around my car, making it difficult to see. As I drove through downtown I was struck by inspiration and hung a sharp left, right, right. I came to a dank, shadowy street with hookers lining the streets. _Gotta pay the rent, even if it is shitty out, _I thought wryly. I pulled up to a woman who looked to be about 25, and rolled down my window. She came over and leaned in the window, "You looking for a good time hon? Bet I can make you come better than your boyfriend." I laughed, "I'm not here for that. If you want, I'd like to pay you just to talk." She raised an eyebrow at me, "Oookay…don't see why not." She opened the door and climbed in. I looked over at her leather leggings and corset top under a furry jacket wide open and blasted the heat. "Oh gawd that feels amazing" she said with a small groan, placing her hands over the vent. I pulled away from the curb, "You hungry?" She nodded and I made my way to a McDonalds down the street. We went through the drive through and sat in the car with the heat on, her eating a chicken sandwich, fries and a Coke like it was her last meal; and me sipping on a hot tea. I pulled out my notebook and turned to her, "I hope you don't mind me asking you questions while you eat?" She shook her head, "Naw…go ahead." I prepped my pen and asked, "What is your name? and how old are you?" She gave me a side long glance and swallowed her mouthful before answering, "Name is Tasha. I'm 27." I nodded, writing, and then asked, "Where are you from originally Tasha?" "Hmm…a small town in the Ukraine. Outside of Kiev." I continue writing and asking questions, "How did you get here, to the US? How long have you been doing this?" She sighed, "Men came to our village and said they would take us to England for a chance to get nanny jobs. We got there and they sold us to Russians, who brought us here. I was 16 when I was brought here." I grimaced, "Ok. This one might seem weird. Do you have a tattoo of a roman numeral?" Her head whipped to meet my gaze, and she stayed silent for a long time. Finally, "Yes." She pulled aside her jacket and there, on her clavicle, was a roman numeral, 8. "What does it mean?" I asked in a whisper. She shrugged her jacket back on, "It means that I was bought for 80 thousand dollars, and that is my debt to pay off. I have to have at least 4 clients a day. Otherwise Anatoly beats me." I stared at her, fighting the lump in my throat. I coughed, "Huh. Ok." I put the car in reverse and drove her back to her street.

We sat for a minute until I asked, "How much would you normally charge for an hour?" She shrugged, "Depends on what we would do. For this, $100?" She stared out the window, watching the snow fall, and I could see in the fading light an old bruise on her cheek, just fading. I reached into my purse and got out my wallet, I only had $50 in cash. Sighing I looked to her, "I have a proposition for you. I'll give you this $50, and for any information you can bring me about Anatoly and the other Russians, I'll give you $150 for each time." Her head turned slowly, and she assessed me with narrowed eyes, until she finally spoke. "Okay. Give me your phone number and I will contact you." I nodded and handed her the cash along with a slip of paper with my number on it. As she got out of the car I laid a hand on her arm, "Wait, I just want you to know. I'm Katrina Woodson. I'm the Assistant DA." She smiled at me, "I know who you are. Anatoly hates you." I raised my eyebrow, "Good to know. Talk to you soon. Stay warm." She nodded and closed the car door, walking away. I watched her for a moment before pulling away, and watched her disappear into the snow in my rearview mirror.

I pulled into my apartment complex and headed upstairs, excited by my information. I entered my apartment, unsurprised to see John relaxing on my couch. I dropped my bag and headed to my bathroom, "Be right back! I need to change and use the restroom!" I shouted over my shoulder. After peeing, I changed into my fleece shorts and button down sleep shirt. It was perfect for letting my legs be free, but still kept me warm. I skipped back to the couch and jumped onto it, "I have good newssssss!" I sang, smiling at John. He gave me a half smile and handed me a glass of white wine. I took a long sip and sighed, "So damn good", smiling at him. He raised his beer, clinking it gently against my glass. "Okay. So I have news." I proceeded to tell him all that Tasha had told me, and the impact of what it could mean for our investigation. He nodded, "That's about what I came up with too." A small bundle of disappointment lodged in my chest, I had kinda been hoping for more of a reaction. Sighing, I ran a hand over my face and pushed some stray hairs out of my face. John nudged my hand with his arm, "Hey. Don't give up, this is good news." I nodded, "I know. I'm just tired. Thank god it's Friday. I need to sleep in tomorrow." He grinned, "So no self defense tomorrow morning?" I gave him the stink eye and punched his arm lightly, "If you wake me up before 8am, I will not be held legally responsible for my actions." Laughing, he set his beer down, "Oh yea? Whatcha going to do?" I grinned at him, "I will tase your ass." His grin slipped for a second and then came back in place, "Sounds exciting. I might just take my chances." I shook my head at him, smiling, as I finished off my glass of wine. He motioned to my glass, "Want more?" I normally would have said no, but hey it was officially the weekend. I nodded and handed it to him as he rose to go into the kitchen. Moments later he re-emerged with a fresh beer and a glass of wine for me. We toasted again, relaxing and just enjoying each other's company.

"Right so you used to work for the CIA?" He nodded, "Yea and then a private company hired me for….protection services." I raised my eyebrow, silently asking for more details. He gave me a secretive smile and just sipped his beer. Cocking my head at him, I grinned, "Ever the secret keeper, eh John?" His smile drooped for a moment and then got brighter, "It helps you stay alive." Nodding, I raised my glass to that statement. I looked to the clock and saw it was midnight. "Ughhhh…I should probably get to bed. I have that charity ball tomorrow night. You're still working security for that right?" He nodded, "It's the best way to keep tabs on you and your boss while remaining under the radar." I stood, swayed for a second and put out a hand to steady myself, John's hand instantly grabbing mine. I grinned down at him, "Guess I haven't drank in awhile." He smiled, "Why don't I stay tonight to make sure you're ok?" I wrinkled my nose at him, "I'm fine! But if it makes you feel better, ok." I leaned down and brushed a kiss against his cheek, the scent of him igniting a small fire in my belly. I swayed again, my body drifting dangerously close to his, and his hand came to my waist, steadying me, and brushing the fire hotter. I leaned back, clearing my throat and gave him a smile, "Well…goodnight." I retreated down the hall to my bedroom, anxious to separate myself from temptation. We hadn't had a moment like that since the night we danced together. I lay in bed, recalling how good his hands felt on my waist, and imagining how good they would feel elsewhere. I groaned softly and turned my face into the pillow, "NO NO NO…you cannot think like that!" I whispered to myself. Sighing, I lay looking up at the ceiling; it was going to be a long night.

When she had leaned further in after kissing my cheek, I could feel her breasts just brush against my chest. It was madness laying here, thinking about her body; lean and still curvy in the right places. I had stayed the night earlier in the week and had heard her moaning in her sleep, thinking it was a nightmare, I had entered her room, only to stop short at the sight of her, blankets twisted around her waist, her sleep shirt lifted up to just under her breasts, her long, pale legs and underwear exposed. She had been moaning not in fear, but in arousal, in her sleep. I knew I needed to leave, but when she uttered a breathy moan with my name on her lips, and I saw her hand between her legs, cupping herself even in her sleep, my heart felt like it was going to explode. I felt like I was trapped, being held there by those long, muscular legs. Part of my brain screamed at me to pull her hand away and replace myself with it, use my mouth until she woke up, but I stood fast, knowing I couldn't cross that line. I had retreated to the couch, and lain wide awake for many hours. Now I was in the same predicament. Sighing, I drank the rest of my beer and hoped it would help soothe me to sleep. Otherwise I was going to have a long ass night. Fuck.

**The next night**

I knew the moment she entered the ballroom, even though it was packed. I saw her, dressed in a strapless emerald green dress, with a, what do you call it…sweetheart neckline. It had a ruffle around the waist and clung to her hips and flared out, her leg peeking out from a long slit on one side. Her long red hair was curled and half up, the rest spilling down her back. She was stunning. My mouth grew dry. I had to focus now, ensure her safety and try to see if her boss would pull any shenanigans. Finch had confirmed he was under the Russian mob's thumb. Losing 35k on horse races will do that. I shook my head and began my circuit around the room.

I had seen John's eyes widen when he saw me, and in that moment I knew the dress was the right choice. Over the next few hours Tom and I made the rounds, chatting with local and state politicians, judges, police commissioners, and CEO's. After dinner, a particularly handsome young police officer who had been honored came up to me, asking for a dance. As they had just started to play Caro Emerald's "Just one Dance" I grinned and moved out to the floor for the swingy song. After a few seconds I could tell my partner was a great dancer, and in a minute, we had the floor to ourselves as we whirled around the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw John watching, his face betraying jealousy and envy. When the song came to an end, I was out of breath, and gave a small bow to the applause, grinning. I thanked my partner and headed over to the bar to get a drink. "Dirty martini please, lots of olives." I turned to watch the other dancers while I waited for my drink. "Here you are miss" the bartender said as he handed me my drink. I accepted it, handing him a generous tip. I stood to the side of the room, waiting for John to approach. Soon enough he sidled up, "You looked like you were having a good time." I arched a brow at him. "Hmm. I was. This drink is good too. You know what's going to be better?" He gave a small shake of his head and his gaze continued to watch the dancers, as mine did. I kept my voice neutral, "Getting out of this dress, and these garters. Such a pain." I downed the rest of my drink and set it on the table behind us, turning to him with a wicked smile and asked, "Maybe you can help me with that?" before walking away to rejoin my boss in networking. At the end of the evening, I found John's gaze on me and gave him a long, slow smile before heading out.

I sat in my apartment, waiting. He would either come here, or he wouldn't. I sipped on a glass of wine and waited. My head came up when I heard the front door open, and my stomach flipped when I saw him, so damn attractive in that tux, standing in my living room. I stood and headed towards my bedroom, throwing a sultry look over my shoulder, "Coming, or going John?"

* * *

**Ohhhhh were you expecting all the good stuff right away? hehehehe...you'll just have to wait! Please review and let me know what you think! **


	8. Saving Grace Chapter 8

"Coming or going John?" The words rang with a clarity in my mind, as I stood stuck, in the entryway to the hallway, watching her walk down the hallway. This moment would change and redefine everything for us. I wasn't sure I could do this yet. It's not like I don't want to, but the consequences could be devastating for both of us. I hadn't opened myself to the possibility of intimacy since Carter…and I had found myself devastated by the loss of her. I had been denying to myself for weeks how I felt about Katrina. She was smart, sassy, strong and mature. Dedicated to her job, and to finding justice for those less fortunate, she was a firecracker. I wanted her. Swallowing down my fear, I walked down the hall and into her bedroom, where she stood, waiting. A small smile graced her lips as she looked up to me, heightened by her four inch heels, but still shorter than me. It was her delicacy that captured my heart, made me want to protect her, and her fierceness at not wanting to be protected that made her worm deeper into my heart. I reached out and laid my hands on her waist, drawing her close to me, inhaling the scent of her musky perfume. I lowered my head, brushing my lips ever so softly against hers, my hands tightening on her waist. Her hands came up and cupped the back of my neck, pulling my lips more firmly against hers. I could taste the wine she had drunk and the sweet taste of her as I explored her mouth with my own. My hand lifted from her waist and found the zipper on her dress, slowly pulling it down as we kissed, firmly, passionately, breathing heavily. I pulled away as her dress bunched around her waist, and took in the sight of her upper body encased in a flesh toned corset. My hands pushed it further down to pool around her feet, and my groin tightened as I stared at her long legs encased in thigh high garters, attached to nude lacy underwear. Katrina pushed me back slightly, stepping out from her dress, and removed my tux jacket, shoving it down my arms, and then completely off. Loosening my bow tie, she watched my face as she undressed me slowly. Her nimble fingers swiftly unbuttoned my shirt, shoving it down my arms, smiling as she took in the sight of my muscular chest. Her fingers traced over my shoulders, across my arms, down my chest, and tightened around my waist. My muscles contracted under her pointed perusal, and when her warm, wet mouth found my neck and began kissing her way across my body, an involuntary groan escaped my body. Her mouth captured one of my nipples, her teeth scraping across it, tugging on it till it was almost painful and then sucked, eliciting a deep groan from me, my hands tightening on her waist, yanking her hips against mine to brush my growing erection against her core.

Her gasp of arousal spurred me further; I wrapped my hands around her waist and pushed her against the closed door. One hand cupped her breast, the other traveled across the bare skin of her waist and then down across her hip, teasing, never going where I knew she wanted it. My hand on her breast delved into her corset and captured her nipple with my fingers, twisting and pulling it, eliciting a moan from her as my other hand skimmed across her hips. I placed rough, biting kisses to her neck and collarbone, skimming my teeth across it. My fingers continued their torture of her breasts, and my other hand dipped, caressing her core through her panties, drawing a gasp from her as she thrust her hips against his hand. His fingers pressed harder against her clit, feeling the dampness through her underwear as she writhed against his hands. My own groin tightened and I let a low groan escape between clenched teeth as I ground my erection against her curvy bottom. We writhed against each other, her hips growing more frenetic as I increased the pace of my fingers, until I wrenched her back around to face me, capturing her lips with my own, our hips thrusting against each other, groaning into each other at the heated contact. She suddenly shoved me back and panted, "Take off your clothes" as she began to take off her corset, tossing it to the ground. After shucking my pants she grabbed my hand and led me to her bed, pulling me down on top of her. My mouth immediately found hers, my hand cupping her now bare breast, teasing and tugging on it until she broke away gasping. My mouth moved down to her breast, taking her in, sucking and teasing. I watched in ecstasy as her eyes rolled back into her head and her back arched, pushing her breast further into my mouth. My hand captured her waist and I moved my mouth to her other breast, my fingers teasing the nipple I had left behind. Her hips flexed and pushed into mine, causing delicious friction for us both. My bare cock brushed against her thigh, eager to be inside of her wetness. I moved away from her breasts and placed open mouthed kisses across her stomach, across her hip bones, scraping my teeth along them, drawing more moans from her. "Please John…please" I grinned up at her from between her thighs, placed a kiss at the very crux of her thigh and her core and grinned again at her moan. I brushed a light kiss over her clit, smiling as her moans grew louder and her hips thrust up against my mouth. I sucked gently on her clit, thrusting my tongue against her, drawing loud moans and gasps from her. I kept one hand on her waist to hold her down as I worked my mouth against her, through her underwear. Her moans and speech grew garbled as her breath came in pants, until I pulled away and yanked down her underwear and tights. I took in the sight of her wet core and swallowed tightly, I wanted to bury myself in her, but restrained myself. I lowered my mouth back to her and sucked on her clit, my tongue lapping at her core. "Jesus Christ John….YES!" I delved two fingers into her wetness, curling them against her in a "Come here" movement, sucking on her clit as I did. She let out a cry, thrusting her hips against me. I felt her walls starting to tighten and increased the pace of my fingers and tongue, wanting to feel her come against my mouth. A few moments later, her hand in my hair yanked hard as her hips thrust hard against my mouth, gasping out her orgasm, "Yesss John! Yes!"

Her body thrummed under me, her breaths coming in gasps. I moved up her body to place a light kiss on her lips, groaning when she sucked on my lower lip. Her hands wrapped around my waist and pushed, flipping me over onto my back. Drawing deep breaths she smiled at me and kissed her way down my waist until she came to my cock, standing at attention, and drew it into her mouth, licking the tip, swirling her tongue around before taking me deeper into her mouth. My moaned, trying to control my hips from thrusting into her mouth too harshly. Her teeth scrapped gently over my cock, making me clench my teeth, I couldn't take much more of this. I pushed her away gently, "Stop Katrina, I need you to stop." She pulled away with an audible pop and smiled down at me, leaning in for a kiss. Her thighs tightened around my waist and her head was thrown back as she lowered herself onto me, taking me in slowly. I gritted my teeth at the sensation of the friction, her wetness surrounding me. At last she settled fully down onto me, breathing heavily. Her fingernails scraped against my chest as she began to move, swirling her hips, arching her back, thrusting out her breasts. My breath came in faster gasps as my hips met her slow thrusts, driving deeply into her. My brain felt like it was on fire, I had never felt this intensity with anyone. Her fingers twisted on my nipples, sending shockwaves through my body, making me thrust harder into her, eliciting a deep moan from her. I sat up and pulled her deeper into me, wrapping her legs around my waist, thrusting deeply. Her head fell back, her long red hair in tangles down her back as she thrust against me, moaning loudly. "Christ John, harder!" I thrust harder into her, tugging on her hair, biting on her neck, making her gasp. I twisted a hand between us and began playing with her clit again, drawing a loud moan from Katrina as my teeth tugged on her breast at the same time. Her fingernails scratched up and down my back, I knew they would leave marks, and I didn't care. I was proud to bear her marks. I could feel her walls tightening around me again, and I moved my fingers on her clit fast, thrusting harder and faster into her, the sound of our moans and gasps filling the room. Her head tilted back and I watched, enthralled as she came around me, her chest heaving with ecstasy. Instinct took over and I thrust faster and harder, chasing my own orgasm. Katrina's fingers dug into my back and my hair, tugging gently, until I came, the tightness in my balls exploding outward, sparking explosions behind my eyes.

We stilled eventually, Katrina resting in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder, her breaths beginning to even out. "Jesus John….I haven't made love like that in years." Her voice was soft against my neck, her breath brushing against my skin. I shivered slightly and held her against me as I laid back, rolling us onto our sides, slipping out of her. She shivered too and I leaned down to pull the blankets we had mussed back over us. I laid down, my face close to hers, and I could see her eyes were already beginning to close. I brushed a light kiss over her forehead, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against me. I whispered into her ear, "I've never been with anyone like that. That was something special." She made a small humming noise and I peeked down to see her smiling with her eyes closed, already half asleep. My heart tugged, and I knew I was lost. I watched her fall deeply asleep and knew I wasn't far behind. I said a silent prayer to Carter, asking for her guidance. I had loved her, and I had lost her. I was heading in the same direction here, and though I knew Carter would like her, even approve of my happiness, that didn't lessen the sting of betrayal I felt at what we had just done. It was silly, but there it was. I needed time to come to grips with this, and I could only pray I wouldn't hurt Katrina.

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**Hey guys, so i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoy writing it! I wanted to write this part from John's perspective because we all know he's a little closed off, and I wanted to give him an opportunity to shine. So again, please review and stick around for more! :D**


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